


ready, steady, run

by sinpops



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Omega Shiro (Voltron), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25082980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinpops/pseuds/sinpops
Summary: It's been years since Shiro joined a run. It's been years since he was interested in one. Things can get complicated for him as a prince, and besides, there's no one he's particularly excited to have catch him anyway.That is, no one until Keith.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 203





	ready, steady, run

**Author's Note:**

> content warning — shiro's genitalia is described ambiguously. if that makes you uncomfortable in any way, please turn back now.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Matt says quietly. He inches closer, like he’s trying not to be heard by the hundreds of other people gathered in the clearing in front of the forest.

Shiro respects the effort, but he doubts anyone is paying attention to them right now. There are more interesting things to worry about.

“Why not?” Shiro says. “I’ve taken the contraceptive, I’m spelled against forced mating marks, and the run’s not dangerous otherwise. You should know, you’ve done it every year.”

“It’s different for betas and you know it, and also I’m not—” Matt glances around, then leans closer to where Shiro’s sitting on a fallen tree trunk and hisses, “I’m not a freaking prince with a freaking obvious single arm.”

Shiro shrugs. “That’s why we’re out here.”

The seasonal run in Terra definitely has the potential to get uncomfortable for him, but they’re out in Arus, where the borderless run takes place. Here, it doesn’t matter if you’re Arusian, human, Altean, Galra—all are free to take part.

And Shiro may have his own reasons for wanting to come out for this particular run, when he hasn’t in years past. Reasons having to do with one second prince of Daibazaal, who Shiro definitely wouldn’t be able to court normally, and who was rumored to have run last season without taking a mate.

Not that Shiro will tell Matt that.

Matt grumbles. “I still don’t like it.”

“Good thing I’m not asking you, then,” Shiro says, leaning back on his hand. “You can leave if you want.”

“And tell your parents I left you to get fucked by yourself?” Matt says. “No thanks.”

“So stop complaining,” Shiro says. “I—”

An Arusian steps out into the clearing and, voice ringing with magic through all the conversations going on at once, says, “Omegas. It is time.”

Shiro stands and pats Matt heartily on the shoulder. “See you on the other side.”

“Please don’t get fucked by anyone who’ll start an international incident,” Matt says, resigned. “I’m sure there are plenty of nice stableboys around here.”

Shiro smiles innocently. He is here for the express purpose of starting an international incident. “No promises.”

He joins the group of omegas following the Arusian deeper into the forest. Baskets are being passed around the group, containing vials of a substance used to burn away suppressants and trigger heats. The alphas will have one meant to trigger their ruts. It’s the point of the runs—to add schedule and structure to an otherwise disruptive and stressful time for the unmated.

Shiro shows back the contents of the vial in one shot, and already he feels the heat burning through his veins. He’s been suppressing his heat for a few years now. He can feel how much it needs to run its course.

“You have a half varga to prepare,” the Arusian says once they’ve all settled in a semicircle, empty vials back in the basket. “Your time begins… now.”

Shiro takes off at a sprint.

Omegas have different ways of handling their heats, and different reasons for entering the run. For some, the adrenaline rush of the heat can be burned off just as well by the thrill of the chase, and they get their release from outrunning and outsmarting anyone confident enough to come near. Some intend to best a worthy alpha in another way.

Shiro really just wants to get fucked, and by one alpha in particular.

With his suppressants burning out of his system, his scent should be strong enough that any interested alpha would be able to catch wind. He doesn’t bother trying to cover it up—he knows some omegas enjoy making their alphas work to find them.

Shiro wants them to work in a different way.

He scouts around, looking for somewhere that fits what he’s looking for, and it probably takes all of his prep time to find it: a clearing that runs straight into a cliff, and a set of crudely-carved stone steps only wide enough for one person to pass through. He lingers there, leaving no doubt for whoever’s tracking him that he’s made his way up these steps, and sits and waits at the top.

The passage of time is hard to track, but Shiro feels himself tiring as he waits, his sprint to get here catching up with him, and he rests against a tree trunk, letting the night air cool the sweat from his skin.

A bit longer and he wonders if he’d made things too hard, after all. He hadn’t thought he’d gone too far, but maybe he had. Maybe he’d given off the impression that he didn’t want to be caught.

Or maybe his target wasn’t interested in catching him in the first place.

He hears a yell from below the cliff, and the sound of a struggle. Shiro stumbles over to the side and looks down. There are two figures grappling in the shadows in front of the steps, and his heart soars, and then drops the moment he realizes neither of them are who he’s looking for.

A minute later, a third rushes in through the clearing and joins the fray.

Shiro watches them, mesmerized. The newcomer is smaller and leaner than the others, but fights with an ease and grace that quickly overwhelms the others and leaves Shiro _wanting_.

As if hearing Shiro’s thoughts, the newcomer snaps their head up to look at him, and Shiro feels his heart pound and his desire rush.

It’s him. It’s Keith, the second prince of Daibazaal. General Krolia’s son.

And he’s coming for _Shiro_.

Shiro’s taken off again at a run before he even thinks about it. Despite his youth, Keith’s one of the most skilled fighters Shiro’s ever known, and he has no doubt that Keith would be able to take down anyone in his way. It’s only a matter of time before he’s up the cliff and in pursuit.

 _Keith_.

Shiro’d wanted this. Hoped for this. But that dark desire he’d seen in Keith’s eyes before he bolted—Shiro wasn’t actually prepared for this.

A chill runs down Shiro’s spine as he realizes—he can keep running if he wants, but his body’s going to give in at some point, and when it does, Keith will catch him. He’s already running slick at the thought of it, his hole all clenching heat.

His steps falter, and he doesn’t think he’s slowed down for very long, but it’s enough time for Keith to sweep his legs out from under him, and the breath rushes out of him as he lands on his back, Keith on top of him.

Shiro struggles against him, out of instinct more than anything else. Everything in his body screams for Keith to take him now, but he also wants Keith to prove that he can.

Keith growls, eyes slitted and golden the way they get when he’s very emotional—or, Shiro’s realizing, when he’s near rut—and he slams Shiro’s wrist against the ground. “Stay still.”

“Make me,” Shiro says with the entirely wrong kind of heat, and he plants his feet and bucks Keith off as he tears his arm away, breaking free.

He hasn’t even made it back on his feet when Keith pins him again, face-down this time and flat against the grass and dirt. Keith wrenches Shiro’s arm up behind his back and traps it there as his legs fight to keep Shiro’s from gaining leverage against the ground. His cock rests hard and thick against Shiro’s back.

“Yield,” Keith grunts, pushing Shiro down with his arm against his back.

Shiro bucks against him and says again, “Make me.”

Keith’s hand tightens on Shiro’s wrist, and Shiro feels the heat of his magic. When Keith’s hand draws away, Shiro’s wrist stays trapped against his back, no matter how hard he tries to move it.

A hand threads through Shiro’s hair and yanks him onto his knees, turning him to meet Keith’s eyes—and for a breath, Shiro forgets why he’s struggling. He only sees Keith once a year, at the annual conference of the kingdoms, and every year he swears that Keith gets more and more beautiful. Shiro wants to drown in the depths of his eyes, wants to feel the softness of his hair, taste the sweetness of his lips. He’s burning in his own desire.

Keith’s eyes are molten, and his fingers stroke Shiro’s cheek, gentle and tender.

And then he’s pushing Shiro against the ground again and pulling his pants down and off.

Shiro growls and thrashes against him, but it’s impossible to get anywhere with his arm pinned uselessly behind his back and Keith’s legs pressed firmly over his.

“I can smell how much you want this,” Keith says, almost wonderingly, as he drags Shiro to his knees and settles over him.

Shiro feels his own legs quivering with how much he wants it, feels the way his chest is heaving and slick is slipping down his thighs, but he growls and tries to buck Keith off anyway.

Keith laughs and pushes his shoulders harder into the ground for his trouble. “You’re not even a little scared, are you?” He grinds against Shiro. “Tell me how much you want it.”

Shiro huffs. “No.”

He feels Keith shuffle behind him, the sound of him wrestling with his own clothes as he keeps one hand firmly against Shiro’s back, and when he presses himself against Shiro again, his skin is hot and his cock rests torturously against Shiro’s hole. “How about now?”

“No,” Shiro breathes.

Keith rocks against him, his cock rubbing through the slick across Shiro’s hole, his breath coming in pants and his hips slapping against Shiro’s ass in the mockery of a fuck. “That’s okay,” Keith says. “I can just come like this. That’s okay with you, right? Since it’s not like you want me in you or anything.”

Shiro growls and resolves not to rise to the bait, but despite what his mind is thinking, his body is moving, trying to angle himself better for Keith to slip in. Every slide of Keith’s cock against his hole is torture, and this feels good, but Keith being inside him would be so much _better_.

“Tell me what you want,” Keith says, his hand curling around the back of Shiro’s neck and pressing down, “and I’ll give it to you.”

Shiro clenches his fist where it’s trapped against his back. “What I want,” he forces out, “is for you to make me take it.”

Keith’s pace stutters and pauses, and it’s a long enough pause that Shiro’s heat haze lifts enough to worry he’d said too much. Keith’s always looked up to him as a friend, a mentor—to see him like this, on the edge of his heat, wanting to be owned and taken—maybe it’s too much, maybe it’s—

Keith’s hand is in his hair again, the grip just painful enough to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Stop thinking,” Keith says, and then he fucks in.

It’s exactly what Shiro needs. Keith’s pace is hard and fast, and he grabs onto Shiro’s shoulders and uses them as leverage to slam into him harder. Shiro thinks he screams, but he’s honestly not sure of all that happens in the time between Keith sliding in and Shiro coming hot and messy and loud.

Shiro can feel the effects of his heat setting in—the way his temperature rises, and how his orgasm only leaves him wanting more.

Distantly, he feels the magic on his wrist loosen, but he leaves it laying limp by his side as Keith rolls him onto his back and pushes his knees up to his head.

“You set up the chase like that on purpose, didn’t you?” Keith says, pressing in deep and making Shiro’s eyes roll back in his head. “Wanted me to prove I could take down anyone. Including you.”

He slams in especially hard at his last statement, and Shiro’s too far gone to be embarrassed of the whimper that slips past his lips.

Keith stills his hips, pushes Shiro’s legs closer to his chest, and leans down, scraping his teeth against the gland on Shiro’s neck. “So did I prove myself?”

Shiro grabs onto Keith’s thigh and struggles in vain to get him to move, before realizing he’s not going anywhere without an answer. “Yes! Yes, please, Keith—please—”

“Please what?” Keith says, and Shiro realizes that this is what Keith is like in rut, and it’s going to ruin him.

“Please fuck me, I need your fucking knot, Keith, please—”

“Yes,” Keith hisses, and starts rocking into him again with fervor as Shiro cries out. “Fuck yes, Shiro, you look so fucking good like this.”

Shiro laughs as best he can with no air in his lungs. “Like a—fucking mess?”

“Like you’re happy,” Keith says.

Shiro was not prepared to feel actual sentimental emotions while getting fucked within an inch of his life tonight, and he gasps as the next thrust of Keith inside him sends tears springing to his eyes. “Fuck,” he gasps. “What the fuck, Keith.”

Keith's hand cups his face. “I could give this to you. Every day, I could help you let go. Make you feel the happiest you've ever been.”

And gods does Shiro _want_.

There’s a ring of truth in what Keith’s saying. Shiro hasn’t felt as worry-free in the past five years as he does right now, being held down and fucked in the dirt by a foreign princeling.

Keith’s lips are on Shiro’s forehead now, and his hands are pressed in the crease of Shiro’s knees, holding him back and open. “It’s okay, Shiro. All you have to do right now is take my cock. You can do that, right?”

He breathes. “Yeah.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Yeah.”

“What feels good?”

What feels good? Shiro tries to focus on articulating the answer to that question, but finds that the more he tries to pinpoint what feels good, the hazier it all gets. Everything feels good. The gritty roughness of the ground underneath him, the way Keith’s hips slam against him and his cock slams inside him, the look in Keith’s eyes that’s equal parts adoration and lust.

Shiro gasps and squeezes his eyes shut as a wave overtakes him, and he comes again, clenching and gasping on Keith’s cock.

Keith groans. “Gods, Shiro. Fuck, you feel so good when you come. Look so good.”

“You?” Shiro manages, the heat haze receding enough from his mind for him to remember that Keith hasn’t come yet.

“Takes a while,” Keith says through pants. “I’m gonna knot.”

Shiro feels like he has another mini-orgasm just at the thought of Keith knotting him. “Oh.”

Keith smiles wryly. “Yeah. So let’s try to give you one more first, okay?” he says, starting up his steady movements again. “Need you nice and relaxed for me.”

“Your rut,” Shiro says, realizing that Keith has to be in the throes of it by now. “What do you need?”

Like how omegas express heats differently, alphas express ruts differently, too. Some get overprotective. Some get overly obsessive about marking their territory.

“Need you just like this.” Keith rocks into him steadily. “Need you to tell me you’re mine. That no one else can give you what I can.”

Words of affirmation. Not so different from Keith as he normally is, then.

“I can do that,” Shiro says breathlessly.

Keith smiles gently back and thrusts into him again. “I would ask what you need during your heat, but I think it’s obvious.”

Shiro huffs a laugh. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Keith starts picking up his pace again. “You want to let go. You want to be fucked out of your mind. You want to know that even if a messenger came and said you had to go back to Terra right now that you couldn’t leave because I. Wouldn’t. Let. You.”

Keith punctuates each word with a thrust, and Shiro cries out as he takes each and every one. “ _Fuck_.”

He hadn’t realized until Keith said it, but yes—that is what he wants right now. That’s what he needs. Someone who will take his responsibilities away by force, because Shiro’s not strong enough to let them go himself.

“Fuck yes.” One of Keith’s hands reaches down to rub Shiro off as he continues to fuck into him. “C’mon, Shiro, one more time. Wanna see you come one more time before I fuck you with my knot.”

Shiro grabs onto Keith’s shoulder and fucks himself on Keith’s cock as best he can. It’s so good. Everything about Keith is so fucking good.

Keith’s teeth scrape over his mating gland again, and that’s it—that’s what he needs.

“Bite me,” Shiro says, mindless with how much he needs it.

Keith nips at his jaw. “You know I can’t.”

“Not too deep,” he says, tilting his head to give Keith better access. “Just a temporary one. Come on, Keith.”

“This is such a bad idea,” Keith says, breath hot over Shiro’s neck, but he’s close, so close, and then a breath later his teeth are sinking in.

Shiro whites out.

He comes to with his legs drenched in slick and on his knees again. Keith settles over him with an arm wrapped around his middle.

“It’ll be more comfortable like this,” Keith says, and Shiro whimpers as he slams into Shiro’s fluttering hole. Every nerve feels on fire, doubled by the sensations coming through the temporary bond between them.

Love.

Lust.

 _Possession_.

It should feel dirty—Shiro’s literally being mounted on his forearm and knees on the forest floor, and he can feel through the bond and with every thrust the primal satisfaction that Keith is getting from taking control of him like this—but the heat haze kicks in quicker this time, and Shiro’s already pushing back, trying to take Keith in deeper and deeper.

“Want you,” Shiro says with what little breath he has. “Want you to fill me up with your knot. Oh, _fuck_.”

Every time he thinks about how it’ll feel to be full of Keith, it makes him slicker. He can feel himself pulsing around Keith’s cock, can smell his own desire, thick and cloying in the air around them. And Keith, spurred on by it, pounds into him harder.

“Gods, Shiro,” Keith breathes. “I wish I was the only one who could see you like this.”

“You are,” Shiro says, breathless himself. “This is yours. I’m yours. I’m yours, Keith.”

“Fuck yes you are,” Keith growls, picking up speed until Shiro can barely breathe. “And you’ll take whatever I give you.”

Shiro groans. “Yes.”

“And you’ll beg for more.”

“Fuck yes.”

Keith grabs Shiro’s hair and wrenches his head back with it. “Beg for my knot.”

“I need your knot,” Shiro says, the words spilling out without thought, without effort, because they’re true. “Need your fucking knot in me, Keith, fuck, I’m all wet just for you, just so you can fuck me open however you want—”

“Fuck yes, I’ll give it to you.” Keith’s voice ticks up in volume, rough with his desire as Shiro feels his cock swell inside him. “You want my knot, Shiro? Want me to show you how good I can fill you up?”

“Give it to me.” Shiro rocks back against him as much as he’s able, asking for it as much with his body as he is with his words. “Please give it to me, Keith, I need it, I need you, I—”

Keith growls and clamps his teeth on the junction of Shiro’s neck and shoulder as he comes, his knot swelling in Shiro’s hole.

“Oh, fuck, Keith—”

Keith lets go of his hair, and Shiro buries his face into the ground and screams as another orgasm is forced out of him by Keith’s knot filling him completely. It doesn’t help that Keith _just keeps moving_ , grinding relentlessly inside him as he pumps come deep inside. Shiro wails, the sound turning into a cracked sob as he comes again and his legs give way and he collapses to the ground.

Keith rolls them onto their sides, and it’s a bit of a complicated maneuver, since they’re firmly locked together. Shiro groans as the knot jostles inside him, clenching around it involuntarily.

Keith strokes his side, and then runs his hand over Shiro’s abs, and then reaches lower.

Shiro whines, wrung out and oversensitive. “I can’t.”

“You’ll do it for me,” Keith says, soft and sure. “You look so good coming on my knot. I want to see it one more time. One more time and you can rest, okay?”

Too much pleasure won’t be the worst way to die, at least. Shiro squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Keith murmurs, which sounds distressingly good coming from him. He turns Shiro’s head again, and leans over him. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Shiro whispers.

Keith kisses like it’s the only chance he’ll ever get. It’s hot, it’s slick, and it’s so damn desperate that it makes Shiro gasp. Keith takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth. He’s clumsy and inexperienced, but it hardly matters when everything just feels so damn good.

When Shiro comes again, it’s with a feeling of inevitably—not just of his orgasm, but of everything.

It feels like his life was always going to lead to him here, sticky and wrung out in Keith’s arms, a deep satisfaction thrumming across the bond between them. He lays back against Keith, exhausted.

Keith kisses his forehead. “Rest,” he murmurs. “I’ll be here.”

“You’d better,” Shiro says blearily.

“I wouldn’t want to start an international incident,” Keith says, gently teasing.

“Unfortunately for you, that’s been my plan all along,” Shiro says. “Would be easier if you’d bitten me harder, though.”

Keith’s nails prick into his skin. “You really know how to go after what you want, huh?” He sounds amused, more than anything else.

“If I recall,” Shiro says, “you were the one who went after me.”

Keith laughs at that. “Oh, so this is my fault.”

“Yep.” Shiro squeezes around his knot, making Keith groan. “So you better take responsibility for this.”

He’s worried he’s pushing too far, too fast, but then Keith groans again and buries his face by the scent gland on Shiro’s neck, lapping at it with a slightly rough tongue. “You’re a menace.”

“You love me,” Shiro says, with all the confidence of someone who can feel exactly just how much through the bond.

Keith holds him closer, and Shiro can feel his smile against his back. “Yeah,” Keith says. “I do.”


End file.
